By The Fire
by DowagerInTraining
Summary: John and Anna snuggle up together in front of the fire at their cottage. Unapologetic fluffy smut!


**I felt a little guilty for traumatizing the Banna fans who read The Funeral earlier today, so to make up for the angst, please enjoy this little offering of fluffy smut. Set sometime between season 3-4.**

John's fingers were numb with cold by the time he reached the front door of the cottage. The nights were drawing in, getting bitter and raw as November drew onwards. A fresh sharpness in the air promised a frosty morning tomorrow.

Closing the door behind him, he stamped his feet to warm up a little and turned on the little gas lamp on the table, then went to rebuild the fire. His duties had finished early tonight. Lord Grantham had retired to bed earlier than usual. He was tired and had an early train to catch. Privately he also confided to John that he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep up with his children and their friends when it came to socialising and drinking.

John had offered to wait for Anna, but they both knew Lady Mary wasn't likely to call it a night so early, especially not when the house was bursting at the seams with younger company.

"You go on," she urged. "Get the fire lit and the place warmed up. I'll follow on as soon as I'm able to."

After raking out the cinders and re-stacking the wood and coal, John blew into his fingers to warm them before striking the match. The kindling caught nicely and soon the blaze was roaring. Spreading his hands before it, he relaxed and sighed with pleasure, the heat seeping into his frozen body. He'd never appreciated how cold Yorkshire could be in the winter when he'd been living in at Downton Abbey, but the nightly walks home were sharpening his awareness to an uncomfortable point now.

The clock chimed eleven on the mantelpiece. There was time to do a little housework before Anna got home. Heating some water in the kettle, John finished the washing up, set the plates and cups to drain so they could have breakfast the next morning. The fire spat and crackled almost companionably and the warm smell of dry wood and hot coal soon filled the room in a strangely pleasant way.

Thinking ahead, he boiled up the kettle and filled the two rubber hot water bottles that had been a housewarming gift from Mrs Hughes and took them upstairs to put in the bed, so that they wouldn't freeze later. Then he set up a tray for tea and refilled the kettle, ready to make a pot for when Anna got home. He sat near the fire, warming through, reading his current book and waiting for her to come in.

Just as the kettle began to sing, the latch clicked.

"It's only me," she said softly.

"That was perfect timing, the tea is just set to steep," John smiled at her in the lamplight as he swirled some water into the pot to warm it through, before spooning in the tea and setting it to brew under the cosy.

"Oh," Anna made a soft noise of pleasure, a smile lighting up her face. "You are wonderful John Bates, I'm frozen to the bone."

"Come here," he chuckled softly, "Let me warm you up."

It occurred to John that beyond all of the physical pleasures of sex that he and Anna had discovered together since their marriage and his release from prison, not one could compare to the simple joy of holding his wife warm and safe in his arms on a cold winter night. There was a gentle magic in being able to do such an innocent and yet intimate thing that could not be matched.

"Better?"

"Mmmmm..."

"Come on, sit by the fire. I'll bring the tea."

Coat, hat and boots finally off, Anna sank into the small sofa, leaning forward to spread her hands before the blaze. John carried over the tea tray to the small table and was rewarded with one of Anna's best smiles as she drank her tea. They swapped the small bits of news that there had been no time to exchange during the day, unwinding and relaxing together. Tea finished, Anna set her cup to one side and sighed happily.

"Feeling warmed up?"

"Could be warmer..."

Her grin was sly, her eyes wicked as they flicked up to meet his. John marvelled all over again at how she had the energy for such naughtiness after a long and hard day of work. Yet, he always managed to match it, so he couldn't truly comment.

"Come here then you," he growled, scooping her into a cuddle on the sofa, relishing her small shriek.

The kiss that followed began softly, but by the time it ended, both John and Anna were making soft moans of pleasure, gasping beneath each other's lips and hands. Moving slightly, John turned her to lie beneath him, her head pillowed against the arm of the sofa. Looking up at him, she wound her arms around his torso, pulling him closer with a smile.

"Now aren't you glad I persuaded you to replace that broken old sofa...?"

"Tease," he whispered into her skin as he kissed and nibbled at the side of her neck. "Distracting me at a time like this..."

Anna murmured with pleasure beneath his attentions, her hands playing up and down his back.

"Feeling warmer yet?"

"A little... but do you know what would help...?"

"What's that," he gently nipped at the soft lobe of her ear, relishing her squirm beneath him.

"Less clothes..."

A flare of excitement ensnared John's stomach at the idea.

"Less clothes? Whose, yours or mine?"

"Both," Anna rasped, suddenly pushing him over the edge of the sofa to lie on the rub before the fire, following through and landing above him with a shriek of laughter. Prone on his back, mesmerised by the sight of his wife laid above him, John began to feel helpless beneath her insistent, practiced caresses. She knew exactly how and where to touch him, to drive him to the edge of his sanity. Slowly, the buttons on his shirt came undone beneath Anna's nimble fingers, he felt the heat of the fire against his skin, mingling with the sweet and hot sensations beneath as her hands stroked over him, her lips teasing against his throat.

Reaching up behind her, with practiced hands he unfastened the little buttons down the back of her dress, slowly removing it to reveal the little chemise beneath. John silently blessed the changing fashions which had allowed Anna to be rid of her corsets.

"You look so beautiful..."

Anna blushed, her face and arms glowing in the firelight.

"I'm glad you think so... my handsome husband..."

John marvelled at how a few words from her could make him, a crippled old man wracked with aches and self doubt, feel like a prince of the world. Reaching up towards her, he pulled her into him, swiftly and urgently, his lips meeting hers with the same passion as their first night together had known. His hands gently tugged her hair free from its bindings, letting the soft golden waves flow down over her shoulders, tangling his fingers in among her roots at the scalp.

Rolling over, he laid her against the soft fur of the old rug beneath them, sliding his hand down her waist and thighs, pushing away her dress to run his fingers over the silky stockings she still wore. At the intimacy of his touch, Anna writhed, her back arching, eyes closed, lost in her own sensations as his hand slowly inched up the inside of her thighs.

"I don't think you need these, Mrs Bates," he whispered hoarsely, barely restraining his own desire as he removed her underwear. Dear God, but he loved the feel of his wife's soft, intimate and delicious body under his hands, loved the sound of her voice as she gasped beneath his touch.

His fingertips crept up the inside of her legs as he nibbled and nipped at the side of her throat, holding her against him, cradled and yet so vulnerable beneath his touch. As he teased against the sweet, wet heat between her legs, Anna moaned.

"Oh John..."

The sound of his name, framed by her voice, was still enough to unravel him to the core. His fingertips rubbed against her, soft and insistent, teasing against the entrance to her, around the tiny bud of exquisite nerves that made her tremble with pleasure and eagerness.

Anna's hands reached for his belt and the clasp of his trousers. He should stop her, should give her everything before taking anything from her, but the heat of the fire and the urgency of her gasps and moans were stirring his longing for her to a wicked height. Shucking out of his clothes, John moved to lie between her thighs.

Anna wriggled free. "No..."

"But I thought you wanted..."

"Not like this..."

Taking advantage of his surprise, she pushed him down onto his back, straddling him, the flimsy chemise revealing every line and curve of her beautiful body, her hair a river of molten gold in the firelight. John was all but helpless, mesmerised beneath a goddess who had rendered him her willing slave.

"Like this...!"

Anna's hands clutched at his shoulders as she bore down onto him, taking him into her in one long, slow movement of satisfaction. John whimpered with desire, feeling her slick heat close around him, grasping at her waist as she moved against him. She leaned down, her mouth hot against his ear, her breath ragged.

"Say my name, John..."

"Anna..."

He felt her movements quicken, a rhythm of fire against him, a rising of heat in his very blood, closer and closer to rapture

"Again... say my name... "

"Oh Anna... my love, my wife, Anna..."

"Yes...yes... Oh John yes!"

"Anna!"

At the last moment of bliss, their voices mingled, like their bodies, their very souls. Panting for breath, they sank into each other, a lazy sleepy satisfaction settling over them.

"John...?"

"Hmmm...?"

"We should go to bed."

"But that involves moving..."

Smiling softly at him, Anna rose, pulled him to his feet. Abandoning their clothes, they doused the lamp and hurried up the stairs to their room, feeling the loss of the fire as they climbed the stairs.

"Brrrrr! You might need to warm me up again," Anna shivered, kicking the door shut behind her, rubbing at her bare arms.

"Fear not love..." John pulled back the covers and got into bed, pulling her in and wrapping her close against him. The warmth from the hot water bottles had worked its magic. "I've been busy."

Anna gave a wicked, throaty chuckle.

"I meant the hot water bottles, you cheeky madam..."

"I know dear, but you can't expect me to pass on a line like that."

"Mmmm, I suppose I will let you off."

"Good. Because I love you John Bates."

"Why, because I make shameless love to you in front of our fireplace?"

"That and you put hot water bottles in my bed."

Kissing the tip of his nose, Anna snuggled against him, her hair settled over his chest as he held her in his arms.

Yes. He had been right. Wonderful as the sex and all of their love was, there was nothing else that quite compared to holding Anna in his arms, warm and safe, and knowing that he never needed to let go.


End file.
